


The Perfect Bluff

by SkyShep



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Romance, Shoker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:12:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9559109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyShep/pseuds/SkyShep
Summary: Two years ago, he lost the woman he loved. Now, after surviving what had promised to be a suicide mission, and with the Reaper invasion on the horizon, Jeff "Joker" Moreau must face his inner demons if he ever hopes to win the heart of Commander Shepard.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on FF.net in 2011, I am aiming to revise and finish this fic for AO3! To old readers and new, thank you for your support through the years.

 

**Prologue**

**From the Gates of Hell**

 

_ I’m dead, surely I’m dead… _ Skylar Shepard thought as she gasped for air. Her navy blue chest plate squeezed her front torso, and her weapon pack felt like it weighed five metric-tons. She couldn’t see a damned thing except a crack of dim light ahead of her.

Wait…

She could see, she could breathe…and she hurt like hell…surely she was  _ alive. _

Shepard moved her arms, surprised that she could do so. She placed her hands on either side of her body and began push up with superhuman strength. As every muscle in her upper body screamed in agony, she gritted her teeth and pushed against the metal platform. Even full-armor push-ups during N7 training hadn’t been this difficult, something must have fallen on top of her in all the chaos. Her voice growled deep within her throat as she strained against the force of artificial gravity to bring herself to her knees. Bringing her left knee up to stabilize her left arm, she began to lift the heavy slab of metal that had been lying across her back. She brought up her other arm to take some of the strain off her neck, and slowly began to rise, using her powerful leg muscles to give her the extra boost she needed to shrug the slab off.

It crashed to the platform, sending small shockwaves through her boots. To her horror, she looked around and saw her squad mates were trapped under similar debris. They lay motionless on the platform, and she feared the worst as she ran over to the crumpled figure on her right. A flash of green scales and the muzzle of an M-97 Viper were distinguishable amidst the rubble: it was Thane.

Shepard grabbed his shoulder and gently turned him over. His large, black eyes blinked both sets of eyelids groggily at her as his eyes attempted to focus. He sat up and Shepard grasped his arm to help him up to his feet. She gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and they exchanged nods, wordlessly acknowledging that Thane was alright.

Turning around, Shepard saw Samara lying under a smaller chunk of metal. She ran over to her and curled her fingers around the slab, throwing it aside. To her relief, Samara’s silvery blue eyes looked alertly back at her, letting Shepard know she was conscious. As Shepard helped the Justicar up, her headset crackled as a transmission came through.

_ “Do you copy? Commander?” _

  
  


On  _ Normandy’ _ s bridge, Joker was sweating bigger bullets than those of Shepard’s trusty sniper rifle. Damn that woman, he kept hailing her with no response, and it was starting to worry him.

_ Skylar, please don’t do this to me. I can’t lose you again. _ “Come on, Shepard, don’t leave me hanging! Do you copy?” He said, desperation leaking into his voice.

Finally, the comms crackled,  _ “I’m here, Joker.”  _ Joker leaned back into his chair and rubbed his eyes in relief,  _ “Did the ground team make it?” _

Miranda approached the pilot’s chair. Joker looked back at her and they exchanged acknowledging nods. He sighed in relief again as he said, “All survivors are on board, we’re just waiting for you.”

Before he could breathe easy again, he heard the subtle and eerie sound of Collector swarms through the comm channel, followed by gunfire. Shepard neglected to turn off her comm unit as she started to run, evidenced by her heavy breathing and by Harbinger’s deep, dark baritone.

_ “Human! You’ve changed nothing!” _

“Go, Miranda! Get back to a safety harness!” Joker yelled as he fired up the  _ Normandy’ _ s engines, which were already hot per Shepard’s orders. With extremely practiced hands, he lifted the frigate off the surface of the Collector station.

“Right!” Miranda shouted, and Joker heard her high-heeled boots hit the deck plates as she ran back towards the CIC.

He continued to hear both Shepard’s labored breathing and Harbinger’s warnings through the open channel,  _ “Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction.” _

Joker swung  _ Normandy’ _ s bow so he could see the entrance to the base. In the cavern-like mouth, he could see Shepard, Thane, and Samara sprinting towards him, a group of Collectors in hot pursuit.

“EDI!” Joker called out, answered by the floating blue holographic orb, “I need you to take the helm so I can give them some cover!” 

“That will be extremely dangerous, Jeff.” EDI pointed out.

Joker shook his head vigorously, “We’ve talked about this, EDI! I’m not letting them take her down again.”

“Very well, Jeff. Just be careful.” The AI relented.

Joker inputted the autopilot protocols and got up out of his chair, grabbing an assault rifle from the bridge weapons locker. One thing was for certain: he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Sky get gunned down when he finally had her in sight.

“I have control, Jeff.” EDI said, “Good luck.” The AI swung the ship to starboard, so that the port airlock faced the sprinting squad.

Joker opened the airlock and stood fearlessly on the edge of the deck, raising the M-8 Avenger up to his shoulder. He gritted his teeth into a scowl and fired, taking out at least one Collector and deterring the others.  _ That’s right _ , Joker thought,  _ Don’t you even  _ think _ about taking her down. Not this time. _

As the station began to shudder, debris fell all around the  _ Normandy, _ but Joker kept his steady footing. Thane and Samara sprinted ahead of Shepard, leaping up onto  _ Normandy’ _ s deck. They stood beside Joker, flanking him and watching as Shepard sprinted towards the hatch.

Suddenly, a rain of large debris fell perilously close to the  _ Normandy, _ knocking out the floating platforms that had bridged the gulf between the base’s ledge and the ship. Joker looked down, almost immediately regretting it; it was a long, long way down. He looked back up at the gap between the ledge and where he stood, Shepard sprinting as hard as she could towards the ledge.

_ Oh shit, she’s not gonna make it! _

_ No, she’ll make it, she’s got to… _

Joker’s heart pounded louder and harder the closer she got to the ledge. When she got there, she took a huge leap towards the ship. Time seemed to slow as Joker watched her reach out, her momentum carrying her ever closer. Her fate would be decided in the next few seconds.

It was over almost as soon as it began. Shepard caught the bottom edge of the airlock as the Collectors began to fire at them again, hoping to hit her and cause her to lose her grip. Samara grabbed the commander’s arm and pulled her up into the ship as Joker laid down more cover fire. Once Shepard was in, Joker slammed the button to close the airlock and started to walk as fast as his weak legs could carry him back towards the bridge. Between the adrenaline making his legs feel like jelly and EDI’s sudden acceleration of the ship upwards, he almost lost his balance.

EDI began a final countdown to the destruction of the Collector base, “Detonation in ten, nine, eight…”

Joker tossed the rifle to the side and took a seat back in his chair, “Yeah, I get the gist of it, EDI. Hold on!” He disengaged the autopilot and took the  _ Normandy’ _ s helm, pulling her into an Immelmann, rolling up and away from the doomed station.  _ Normandy _ lurched forward as the shockwave from the first blast shook her hull, knocking Shepard forward into the pilot’s seat. She cried out in surprise and gripped the back of the chair to keep from falling to the deck. Joker powered up  _ Normandy’ _ s throttles to accelerate them up to maximum sub-light velocity. To his surprise, Shepard’s gauntleted fingers dug into his shoulders, as if she were hanging on for dear life.

“Get us out of here, Joker.” She said, the calm in her voice betrayed by the tension in her grip.

Joker quirked an eyebrow; he rather liked the fact that he was about to whisk her away from certain death. 

_ Like you should have been able to do two years ago… _

“Engaging FTL drive,” Joker said, inputting  _ Normandy’ _ s massive drive core. The helm controls alerted him that the shockwave from the station’s main explosion was right on their six, but Joker just cracked a smile. “Eat my exhaust, bitches.”

  
  


Once they had safely made it back through the Omega-4 relay,  _ Normandy _ appeared in the Sahrabarik system. As soon as the ship materialized, each crew member on deck visibly relaxed. The tension in Shepard’s own shoulders released, and relief trickled through her veins. The aftershocks rippled through her body shortly afterwards, causing her to physically shudder.

“Commander,” Joker said as the readings showed up on his console, “We’re getting an insane amount of comm traffic.” He shook his head in amazement. “Every ship and station in the system must be hailing us!”

_ “ _ Normandy! _ We read, you, do you need assistance?” _

_ “Commander Shepard, the freighter _ Athabasca  _ is standing by to assist.” _

_ “Cerberus vessel, this is Omega mining tug 5274…” _

Samara raised her brows, the gold adornments on them creeping up her forehead, “I’m sure this is unusual, since they have never seen anything but a Collector ship jump out of this relay.”

Shepard nodded in agreement, “Put out a general signal, Joker, squawk lost comms.” The order she issued would shut the other ships up for the time being when they discovered the  _ Normandy _ had “lost” communications. At that moment, she realized that she still gripped Joker’s shoulders, and almost immediately, she let go. She nervously clasped her hands behind her back and wrung at them, embarrassed that she’d manifested her tension in such a manner.

Miranda’s boots clicked along the walkway to the bridge. She stopped short of the entrance, “The Illusive Man would like to speak to you, Shepard.”

Shepard nodded grudgingly, “I’m sure he does.” She grumbled before starting off towards the briefing room. As she made her way through the CIC, she kicked aside any stray debris in her way, and noted that the holographic display of the  _ Normandy _ in the center console was flickering. She walked through the lab, nodding to Mordin as she passed through. The poor salarian was digging through the disarray of lab instruments, trying to sort everything out.

When the door to the briefing room opened, she found that a large beam had fallen in front of it, blocking her way. Instead of merely stepping over it, she lifted it up and propped it against the wall. A few electrical wires and hydraulic lines had fallen in the doorway as well, and she carefully brushed them aside before entering the room. The table disappeared into the floor as the holo-communications grid rose up to replace it. She reluctantly stepped through; she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the Illusive Man’s bullshit.

He appeared before her, brow furrowed and glowing eyes narrowed in a mixture of disappointment and disdain. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette before addressing her.  _ “Shepard, you’re making a habit of costing me more than time and money.” _

“Too many lives were lost at that base,” Shepard waved her hand dismissively in front of her, “I’m not sorry it’s gone.”

_ “The first of  _ many _ lives.” _ the Illusive Man retorted,  _ “The technology from that base could have secured human dominance in the galaxy against the Reapers and beyond.” _

Shepard fired right back, “Human dominance?” She stepped forward to make it clear she was directly challenging him, “Or just Cerberus?”

The Illusive Man rose from his chair, _“Strength for Cerberus is strength for every human_. _Cerberus_ is _humanity.”_ He walked towards her and pointed accusingly at her projection, _“I should have known you’d choke on the hard decisions,”_ waving the hand with the cigarette at her, he finished, _“too idealistic from the start.”_

Shepard took her own step forward and pointed right back at him. “I know what you are and the price of dealing with you.” She spat, then took a step back and relaxed her stance. Her more relaxed body language didn’t mean resignation, however. It meant that she was confident, and would no longer take any of the Illusive Man’s crap. It ended here. “We do things  _ my _ way from now on.” The Illusive Man stood in contemplative but stunned silence, puffing his cigarette, just the way Shepard intended him to. “Harbinger is coming and he won’t be alone, I’m going to make sure we’re ready when they get here.” Her hand waved sharply across her body as she continued, “You can fall in line or step aside, but don’t get in my way.”

The Illusive Man’s eyes were like ice, but at the same time burned with the fire of rage. He took several purposeful steps, stopping right in front of her projection.  _ “You’re sure that’s what you want? You’re taking a hell of a risk, Shepard!” _

Shepard advanced so that she was eye to eye with the image of the Illusive Man. “I don’t think so,” she snarled, “I’m going to stop the Reapers, but I’m not going to sacrifice the soul of our species to do it.” With that, she decided she’d said her piece and walked out of the holo-grid, smirking as she did so.

Navigating her way back to the bridge through the wreck, she noticed that Joker had been watching her progress through the CIC. As she walked along the catwalk, Joker said, “Did you give him the what for, Commander?”

“You bet your ass I did,” Shepard could hardly contain the smile that threatened to spread across her face.

“Serves him right,” Joker grunted as he swiveled around back to his console. “We’re going to need to dock somewhere for repairs, any preferences?”

Shepard walked up beside him and crossed her arms across her chest plate. “Set a course for the Citadel, best possible speed.”

Joker looked up at her and half-smiled, “Already got it laid in, Commander.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow, “You’re very good at that, you know.”

“What?” Joker asked, feigning ignorance.

Shepard slapped the bill of his cap playfully, not enough to skew it, but enough for him to take notice. “Anticipating my every move, of course.”

Joker paused for a moment, something that struck Shepard as very odd. Usually he had a come-back for anything anyone said. Finally, he said, “That’s what I’m here for.” 

Shepard quirked an eyebrow, “Right.” She always expected a quirky comeback from Joker.

“I’d better get out of this armor,” she said, shrugging it off . As she turned to walk away, Joker spoke again.

“Commander,” he said, sounding a little forced. She turned back around at looked at him expectantly. He looked back up at her, right into her eyes, holding her gaze for a few moments. In those moments, Shepard realized something she had never really noticed before: Joker’s eyes were a brilliant shade of green.

“I’m glad you made it back,” Joker continued his thought, “for a minute there, I thought I - I mean, we - were going to lose you again.”

Shepard cocked her head to the side slightly, contemplating what he had just said. “I’m glad I made it back, too, Joker.” She replied, not sure of what else she was supposed to say. 

Joker nodded curtly and acknowledged her, “Commander,” then he turned back around. Shepard waited for a few drawn-out seconds on the ramp, looking at the back of her helmsman’s head.

She finally walked away and shook her head slightly.

  
  


Commander Skylar Shepard stood just short of the entrance to the main cargo bay. The scene was incredible: all of her crewmates were working to patch as much of the ship together as they could while enroute to the Citadel. Nothing could make her more proud than to see a band of people so different come together. Something about surviving that mission did something for them…and it did something for her, too. She trusted each and every one of them with her life, and they trusted her with theirs.

She stepped into the bay and was immediately greeted by Thane, who rendered a salute to her as he walked by. Seeing Legion, Jack, Grunt, and Garrus all working on the same damaged section, she realized just how much they trusted her as they all looked up to acknowledge her as she walked by. Jack gave her a curt and confident nod, more than Shepard could have ever asked from her. Joker was working beside them, and had looked up initially, then back down again. He did a double take when she stopped beside him, standing up to look her right in the eyes. As he walked over to her, he gave her a data pad with a Reaper schematic downloaded onto it. Shepard took it, still trying to decode the look in his eyes…the same look he had given her on the bridge mere hours ago. He didn’t say a word as he walked off to attend to other things, leaving her staring out a forcefield that contained one of the many hull breaches in the bay. 

Looking out into the vast darkness of space, she knew that somewhere beyond those stars, the Reapers were coming. A cold pit settled into her stomach; would they be able to save the galaxy, standing alone without the Citadel, the Alliance, or even Cerberus to support them? Shepard looked back at her crew…her hardworking, intensely loyal crew, then back out into the void. The cold feeling in her gut melted away.

If anyone in the universe could defeat the Reapers, it was the crew of the  _ Normandy. _


	2. The Spectre Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having severed ties with Cerberus, Skylar Shepard goes to Councilor David Anderson for help.

**Chapter One**

**The Spectre Returns**

 

“Citadel Approach,  _ Normandy _ is with you bearing one-four-zero mark five for docking.” Joker said, firing of every word with both speed and purpose. At the same time, he ran his hands expertly over the ship’s controls, lining up with the Citadel’s approach corridor.

_ “ _ Normandy _ , we read you in the corridor, please standby.” _ The Citadel’s approach controller replied courteously. 

This jargon wasn’t new to Shepard; flying fighters and shuttles was a not-insignificant portion of her special forces training. She understood that pilots had a language all their own, and that to the untrained ear, it all sounded like gibberish. That gibberish was, however, a very precise language that allowed controllers and ship handlers to communicate effectively when large volumes of traffic were involved. Crossing her arms over her chest, she watched as various starships flitted in and out of view of the  _ Normandy’ _ s bridge view ports.

_ “ _ Normandy, _ follow freighter traffic ahead 5 klicks, prepare for auto-dock.” _

Joker snickered a bit before he replied, “Ah, negative.  _ Normandy _ will complete approach hands-on.” He looked up at Shepard with that “aren’t-I-awesome?” look on his face, one that she couldn’t resist smiling at.

“Show-off,” Shepard shook her head, despite her wide grin.

“What do you want?” Joker said in a mock defensive tone, “Automated docking is boring!”

“Uh-huh,” Shepard nodded slowly then poked his shoulder. “Just admit you like being a show-off.”

The approach controller came back on over the speakers,  _ “Roger that,  _ Normandy, _ confirm traffic in sight, cleared hands-on docking Zakera Level 27, berth Kilo.” _

“Cleared Zakera 27 Kilo,  _ Normandy _ has freighter in sight.” Joker responded then turned his head back up at Shepard. “Besides, what good are my prodigious skills if I let a computer do it?”

Just as Joker finished his last comment, a floating blue holographic orb appeared on the far left console. “I heard that, Jeff.” EDI said in her metallic voice.

Joker threw up his left hand while simultaneously concentrating on the controls, “You have your purpose, EDI, but I thought we agreed that flying was  _ my _ job.”

“Indeed we did,” the AI relented, “but I would like to point out that there are many flaws inherent in your manual flying that can be remedied by an autopilot.”

Shepard raised her eyebrows and laughed, “Ouch!”

“Hey, hey!” Joker said defensively, “You can’t tell if I’m flying it or not, right, Commander?”

Shepard raised her hands in mock defeat, “You aren’t dragging me into this, Joker.”

“But you can’t, right?” Joker pressed.

Shepard sighed, “It’s true.”

“See?” Joker glared at EDI, who didn’t reply. He nodded with satisfaction, “Pilot one, AI zip.”

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose and chuckled silently, shoulders shuddering with every breath. This was part of the reason she was glad to have Joker around, he never ceased to entertain.

The  _ Normandy _ glided up to one of the Citadel’s five arms, gracefully weaving through any traffic. Joker slid his hand down the right panel, lowering the throttle setting, and thus the power output of the engines.  _ Normandy _ slowed to a crawl before coming to a smooth stop with engines at idle power next to the docking berth. The docking clamps came down to rest perfectly onto her outboard port nacelle, securing into place with a subtle  _ clunk _ . 

“Ha!” Joker said, powering down the engines with a flourish of movement across the helm controls, “How d’ya like that, EDI?”

The AI didn’t miss a beat, “The third clamp is off by three microns.”

Joker raised an annoyed eyebrow at her, “Picky, picky…”

Shepard clapped him on the shoulder, “You did very well, Joker.” She squeezed it slightly before letting go, “Tell them we need repairs. I need to go talk to Anderson.”

“Aye, Commander,” Joker replied, but turned around in his seat to face her. “What do we do now? I mean, you basically gave Cerberus the finger.”

“That’s what I’m going to try to figure out,” Shepard sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Hopefully, with any luck, I can convince the Council that what we’ve done is all the proof they need to take the Reaper threat seriously.”

“Hopefully,” Joker raised a dubious eyebrow. “I wouldn’t count on it, though.”

Shepard shook her head, wrapping her arms around her stomach and gripping her sides. She often did this when she was unsure, it was a habit she tried very hard to break in N7 training, because it was an obvious gesture. “This is one time when I hope you’ll be wrong, but I don’t think you will be.”

Joker recognized her body language tick and drug himself out of his seat, walking up to be face-to-face with her. “Hey,” he put a hand on her upper arm. “Even if they don’t, there’s nothing we can’t do, no ass we can’t kick.”

Shepard relaxed her arms and put them to her sides, “I hope you’re not wrong on that one, for everyone’s sake.” She smiled at him, then turned and walked off the bridge.

  
  


“Councilor Anderson,” Anderson’s asari aide poked her head into his office. Anderson groaned quietly in annoyance; she knew not to disturb him in his office unless it was extremely important.

“Yes, Illya, what is it?” He said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He was a bit more irritable than normal at the moment because of the stack of paperwork he was trying to work through. 

“The  _ Normandy _ just docked, and Commander Shepard is here and wants to speak with you, sir.”

Anderson’s head snapped up from his console to look at her. Now  _ this _ was important indeed. “Shepard’s here?”

The asari nodded her blue-violet head, “Yes, sir. She just arrived and I figured you’d want to know right away.”

“Yes, yes,” Anderson nodded and gestured towards the door. “Please, send her in.”

Illya nodded quickly and walked back down the hall at a brisk pace. Within moments, a welcome and familiar face stepped into his office and rendered a salute.

“Councilor Anderson,” Shepard said, the corner of her mouth tugging up into a slight smile.

Anderson got up from his desk and waved her off, “None of that nonsense, Sky.” He embraced the legendary woman who stood before him. She didn’t look all the worse for the wear; in fact, she looked better than the last time he saw her, which was a couple months ago. Then, she had eerie cracks in her skin that glowed neon orange and smelled slightly of ozone, like some cybernetic zombie. Now, her skin was all healed and the gleam had returned to her powder blue eyes. Even her hair looked better this time around; it was fuller and a gleaming, rich golden blonde as opposed to the flat pale yellow he had seen before. He commented on her changed appearance, “It doesn’t look like you stood at the gates of hell just two days ago.”

“I’ve had time to shower since then,” She quipped, coaxing a chuckle out of her former CO. She continued, “I apologize, but I decided that coming here would have been faster than sending you a message.”

Anderson waved a hand in front of him, “No apology necessary, Sky. If I had known you were coming, I would have tracked you down the moment the  _ Normandy _ docked.”

“I see you knew I was alive,” Shepard raised an inquisitive eyebrow, “I trust you still have your sources?”

“Of course,” Anderson nodded in that all-knowing, sagely manner she knew too well. “I know you’re good, but I can’t say that I wasn’t surprised when I heard you survived, and with all hands, no less.”

“It took some doing,” Shepard rubbed her pectorals, which were still sore from pushing heavy metal around. “I’ve got some new scars to show, as well as some evidence that might make the Council reconsider their stance on the Reapers.”

Anderson sat back in his high-backed chair and laced his fingers, sighing. “Sky, all the ‘evidence’ in the world won’t convince them, and you know that.”

“Well, you’re on the Council, make them see reason!” She crossed her arms and legs, knitting her brows. “I have some pretty irrefutable evidence, and I can link the Reapers to the Collector attacks on those human colonies. The scans don’t lie.”

“Sky, you don’t have to convince me. Give me the files and we’ll see, but I can’t make any promises.” Anderson sighed heavily.

Shepard leaned forward, “I’ll have the  _ Normandy _ forward our readings to you. There’s got to be something you can do,” she said, “I can’t even count on Cerberus anymore, hell.”

This time Anderson raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Shepard shook her head, “The Illusive Man wanted me to save the base and kill the Collectors with a radiation pulse instead of destroying it.”

“You didn’t do it, did you?” Anderson asked, sounding concerned.

“You know me,” Shepard said, “Of course I didn’t. I destroyed it.”

Anderson smiled, “I’m glad to see that your morals are still intact, Commander.”

“Indeed,” Shepard crossed her arms, “but the Illusive Man wasn’t happy about it, and I turned my back on him.”

“You don’t have Cerberus funding anymore?” Anderson asked, getting a nod in response. “That doesn’t bode well.”

“I don’t have anything, David.” Shepard shrugged her shoulders in defeat, “I have a ship, but she’s going to run out of fuel eventually. I can’t even discount the possibility that the Illusive Man won’t try to get  _ Normandy  _ back.”

Anderson nodded, but didn’t say anything. Council support for her mission was out of the question, and he knew that. He wouldn’t be able to get her personnel from either the Council or the Alliance, but funding he could do. He wouldn’t be very popular for it, but there was an option.

“Shepard,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “I can’t guarantee Council sponsorship, since Spectres are expected to fund their own operations, but I can authorize some funds for you. It should be enough to last you until you can get something else arranged. ”

Shepard looked up from gazing at her boots, “You can do that?”

Anderson nodded, “They won’t like it, but I can. Any single member of the Council can authorize up to a certain amount of credits for emergency defense situations.”

“But if you do that, doesn’t that make the Council look like they might actually be concerned about the Reaper threat?” Shepard said, sounding a bit hesitant. She knew that the Council wouldn’t go back on something they’d been preaching for years so easily.

“You’re a Spectre, and a human one to boot. What I do with my powers to help you is my own business. Like I said, they won’t like it, but I am within my rights as a member of the Council.”

“Ah,” Shepard grinned, “I see.” She knew she could count on Anderson, though she still wasn’t sure that the other Council members wouldn’t get in the way. On the other hand, she knew next to nothing about how politicians worked, so she decided to leave it alone unless it became a problem. She changed the topic, “Know any good ship painters here?”  
The question caught Anderson a bit off-guard, “Ship painters? You need to repaint your ship?”

“It’s crawling with repair crews right now; we suffered some pretty bad hull damage at the galactic center.” She shrugged, “It will need a new coat of paint anyway, but I’m thinking I need to change the colors. Cerberus gold just doesn’t do it for me anymore.”

Anderson chuckled again, “No, I bet it doesn’t. Neither does that, I bet.” He gestured towards Shepard’s Cerberus fatigues, where the Cerberus symbol was emblazoned in gold on her shoulders.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to do something about that, too.” She sighed then continued her train of thought. “I was thinking about blue, you think she could do blue?”

“Blue? Hmm,” Anderson said, listening to her even though he was still concentrating on her paperwork. “It  _ is _ your favorite color.”

“Indeed,” Shepard grinned, “Figured I’d go for a more personal touch this time around.”

Anderson laughed and shook his head, “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I like it,” Shepard said, “So you got any recommendations for me or not?”

“Well,” Anderson finished up her paperwork and sent it off before continuing, “There are some guys up here on the Presidium that are supposed to be the best, and I think I might be able to get them to do it for free if I tell them it’s for Commander Skylar Shepard. They might want an endorsement, though.” He looked at her knowingly.

_ Ha. _ Shepard thought to herself, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead. In order to get the best price on the gear she bought at the Citadel, she had given her endorsement to every shop on every level of Zakera Ward. Any time one entered the store, her disembodied voice would say,  _ “I’m Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel!” _

“Oy vey,” she sighed, “Well, what would you expect? Prices here are severely inflated.”

Anderson just smiled and looked straight at her, “Nothing less from the bright and personable lieutenant commander I picked to be my XO.” 

“Oh, so I have you to blame for all the crazy things that have happened in my life since I became the executive officer of the most shot-at ship in the galaxy?” Shepard teased.

“No,” Anderson said reasonably, “that person is whoever recommended you for and insisted you go into N7 training. You never would have become  _ Normandy _ ’s XO otherwise.”

“That was still you!” Shepard exclaimed, but then shifted gears, “Really, I must get back to my ship, I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

He clapped his hands together, “Well, you’re all squared away. I will take the liberty of calling your ship painters for you.”

Shepard got up out of the chair opposite his desk and bowed her head in gratitude. “Many thanks, Anderson. I owe you one.”

Anderson nodded, suddenly seeming very solemn. “Hopefully soon the entire galaxy will owe  _ you _ one, Skylar.”

Shepard returned the heavy nod, but with brighter spirits. “I have a bottle of Serrice ice brandy I’m saving for the occasion, and I intend to open it.”

Anderson couldn’t help but smile. Shepard always had a way of inspiring hope in her people, even when the cause seemed impossible. As she walked out of his office, he couldn’t help but think that the galaxy stood a chance this time around. That one simple sentence Shepard had uttered made him feel that perhaps they would someday be able to savor victory.

  
  


Shepard stepped out of the elevator into the CIC and was greeted by Yeoman Chambers.

“You have a new message, Commander.” She said in her normal business-like tone, but then dropped the volume of her voice so others wouldn’t overhear. “You ought to know that a lot of the crew are getting restless. The rumor is that you dumped Cerberus.”

Shepard rubbed her forehead. She had to expect that the word would get around, and she had yet figured out how she was going to bring it up to her crew. Some of them were very loyal to Cerberus, and she didn’t want to compromise the mission by risking mutiny. Finally, she sighed and said in the same hushed tone, “Tell the crew I will be addressing them in the next few hours. I need my squad in the briefing room; we have a lot to discuss.”

Chambers nodded, short red hair bouncing into her eyes, “I’ll get them rounded up for you, ma’am.” She bit her lip and continued, “You know, I think that you did the right thing back there.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”  
“Yes,” Chambers shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, “What happened on that station was…horrid. If the Illusive Man and Cerberus have a problem with that, then I say to hell with them.” She opened her eyes, which were slightly misty. “I want you to know that I will follow you, Commander.”

Shepard put a hand on her shoulder, “I appreciate that, Kelly.”

Chambers shrugged and wiped a tear that escaped from her left eye, “You are trying to save the galaxy. Cerberus, the Alliance, the Council…they’re all fools for not standing with you.”

Shepard dropped her hand back down to her side, “I’ll be in the briefing room if you need me, Yeoman.”

Chambers nodded, “I’ll tell your team to meet you there, Commander.” She still looked at Shepard, searching her eyes for strength she desperately needed.

“We’ll win, Kelly, Shepard doesn’t know how to fail.”  _ Normandy _ ’s helmsman limped around the large ship status console at the center of the CIC towards them. 

Shepard raised an eyebrow, “Indeed I don’t,” she clapped Chambers on the shoulder with her famous half-grin and let her get to work. She gestured for Joker to follow her, “You should probably be in on this, too.”

They started towards the Lab, and Joker replied, “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“There you go again,” Shepard teased and poked him in the ribs, “anticipating my every move.”

“Hey!” Joker batted at the offending finger, “That was  _ not _ cool!”

“Oh, quit your whining.” Shepard said as they walked through the Lab’s doors. Mordin was at his console, brow knitted over his large, black, almond-shaped eyes in concentration. “Mordin,” Shepard got his attention, “briefing room, five minutes.”

“Ah, yes.” Mordin looked up, “There must be much to discuss, indeed. This will be done in a matter of minutes, just have to save files, then will be right there, Shepard.”

Shepard continued through the exit opposite Mordin’s console, “Just don’t get your tongue twisted in a knot, Mordin.” She quipped and the door closed before Mordin could respond.

“Does he ever shut up?” Joker raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Shepard.

“Not usually,” Shepard admitted, “but he does sing.”

Joker stopped just short of the door to the briefing room, “No shit?”

“Yep,” Shepard bobbed her head and added before she opened the door, “Gilbert and Sullivan, as a matter of fact.” The damage in the briefing room was still unrepaired, since she had requested that the hull be fixed as soon as possible. “Watch your head, the wiring is hanging down.” She gestured to the dangling electrical and hydraulic lines, “Wouldn’t want you to get shocked or have nasty hydraulic fluid drip on you.”

Joker cringed at the damage, “How thoughtful of you,” he said cheekily before walking cautiously through the door into the briefing room.

Shepard followed him in, holding the wiring out of the way, “Any time.” She couldn’t help but smile at her snarky pilot. As she watched him perch himself on the end of the briefing room’s table to take the weight off his legs, she wondered how he had managed to do everything he had done in his life. It couldn’t have been easy for him growing up, especially on the largest military base in Alliance territory. He had once told her that he’d grown up around ships and had been fascinated by them. She was sure that he’d been told more than once that he’d never make it into the Alliance Navy, let alone the helm of a starship. It always made her think about how much determination and drive he must have underneath that rough exterior…how much of a thick skin he had to have developed over the years. Yet here he was, sitting right in front of her and smiling back at her. She’d done many things in her life, but she knew that of all the obstacles she had overcome, they all paled in comparison to the ones Joker had overcome for them to even be in the same room. That thought, more than any other, boggled her mind.

“So what did Anderson have to say?” Joker asked, trying to fill the silence with idle chit-chat.

“He got us some funding for now,” Shepard informed him, “looks like we might actually have a fighting chance.”

Joker nodded, “Good,” was all he said. 

_ There’s that look again, _ Shepard thought to herself. She didn’t understand why he held back if he wanted to say something to her. They’d been through so much together that surely he wouldn’t have anything to hide.

But when she opened her mouth to ask him what was on his mind, but the door opened and Mordin came through. Despite the fact that the salarian was already in the room, she waited for a heartbeat before breaking eye contact with Joker. “Glad you could join us, Mordin.”

“I told you I’d be here in just a few minutes, Shepard, and I kept my word.” The salarian said in his typical rapid speech.

Joker turned around, “The Commander tells me you sing Gilbert and Sullivan, I think she’s lying.” He turned around and winked at Shepard, telling her that he didn’t really mean to call her a liar. He knew that she took her personal integrity very seriously. Shepard knew that he just wanted to get a few notes out of Mordin for kicks, so she just grinned back at him before he looked back at Mordin.

Mordin’s eyes widened a bit in excitement, “The Commander does not lie, Joker. Have done many musicals, plays, recitals. Very much enjoy singing, when there is free time. Growing samples, experiments running overnight, will sing to myself, occasionally.”

Right as Mordin stopped talking, Miranda and Jacob walked into the briefing room together. Jacob settled next to Mordin, who was on Shepard’s left, but Miranda strode quickly to the end of the table opposite Shepard. Immediately, the somewhat light-hearted mood in the room soured.

_ Miranda really knows how to light up a room, doesn’t she? _ Shepard thought to herself sarcastically. Her executive officer’s eyes were about as dark as her black jumpsuit and her arms were crossed tightly against her chest. Shepard couldn’t help but sigh a little bit; she thought that Miranda’s loyalty had gone beyond the Cerberus uniform she wore. On the other hand, she knew that if any of her crew members would be resistant to their split with Cerberus, it would be Miranda.

Samara and Thane walked into the briefing room, settling on either side of Shepard at the head of the table. Of all her new squadmates, she regarded Thane and Samara as her closest friends among them. Samara’s tranquil demeanor always grounded Shepard’s sometimes easily-frazzled nerves, and she was always open and willing to discuss anything that was on her mind. Thane was very much the same way. Shepard had been pleasantly surprised by the assassin’s take on life, and they had spent much down time comparing philosophies. Thane’s confidence in her more than made up for any doubts that had managed to sneak their way into her mind. 

Another friend walked through the doorway, instantly recognizable in the purple helmet and bio-suit that were the hallmark of her people. Tali’Zorah was accompanied by Jack, probably the most enigmatic of all the crew members. Sometimes Shepard felt uneasy about keeping someone on board with as many issues swept under the rug as Jack, but at the same time, she felt that Jack probably needed the stability this mission provided her. Tali stood next to Mordin on Shepard’s left side, and Jack took the right side of the table, as far away from Miranda as she could get.

Zaeed came in by himself, his massive, bulky form moving deliberately towards the spot next to Jack. Suddenly, Shepard noticed a small, lithe figure decloak in the far left corner of the room. She wondered how long Kasumi had been standing there, and at what point she’d managed to slip in. Then again, if she knew that, Kasumi wouldn’t be the master thief she was.

Next through the door were Chakwas and Legion. The geth bowed its cybernetic head at Shepard and said, “Shepard-Commander,” before it took a place on the left side of the table. Chakwas just looked at Shepard in her normal, warm fashion and walked over to the less-crowded right side.

Finally, Garrus slinked in followed by Grunt, who also nodded his huge, blue-violet head at Shepard as he acknowledged her as, “Battlemaster.” They both settled in on the right hand side.

“Everyone’s here,” Miranda started before Shepard could speak.

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose; this was going to be a  _ long _ meeting.


End file.
